


maybe we're meant to be alone

by auriantlyy



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: (background elu), F/F, M/M, Short n sweet, a bit of angst??, anyways just elu's girlfriends being girlfriends, idek if it's short, well idk if it's sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auriantlyy/pseuds/auriantlyy
Summary: chloé meets her eyes, dimpling, "it's a cruel world."that it is, dear. but maybe, just maybe, you could make it a little less cruel.





	maybe we're meant to be alone

**Author's Note:**

> bonnejore  
> (btw pretend lucas never apologized for using chloé as a beard)  
> title and first lil italic bunch is based off of the song "maybe we're meant to be alone" by bad suns check it out 
> 
> i don't really know what this is but i just wanted to highlight some of lucille and chloé's views 
> 
> anyways yeah have fun with this mess

_and then i met you, i_ _wanna love you so bad,_ _but i don't know if i'll let myself,_

 _you came here for somebody else,_ _and now i'm tryin' hard to heal._

the park area is decorated fruitfully. yellow and pearly white balloons tethered to chair legs, pastries and colourful assortments of flowers adorn the table tops. people wander the array of drink counters and their laughter and chatter mingle up through the oak branches.

daphné, beaming from excited reddening cheeks, eyes frantic and bright, greets her with a crushing hug and a _you made it! how does everything look?_

lucille's smile is less exuberant, but she tries to make it as warm as possible. _it all looks great. you did a wonderful job._

daphné parts with an _oh thank god! get yourself some food— a drink! i'll see you around!_ a giddy bounce in her step.

lucille takes her advice, pours herself a glass of some golden liquid, bubbling translucent (hopefully alcoholic). she scans the throng of guests, spots several friends or friends of friends. but also spots chloé. lovely chloé, darling chloé, dark haired and wringing fingers chloé. she wears a fitted inky navy dress with a stooping neckline, and she stands just metres away, out of touching distance. lips stained cherry with lipstick and wine. the manicured burgundy of her nails chipped— the handiwork of overthinking. her face is pinched. black waters of her eyes pooling with— what is it, exactly? anger. something begrudging.. jealousy? all rearing finicky hissing heads. she shifts her gaze, looks over to where the pretty chloé is turned to, glare cutting glass. lucille would've laughed if the girl in front of her didn't look so distressed. what was now in her line of view was one of familiarity. a cotton headed candy of a boy with saucepan blue under furling eyelashes. he strokes the cheekbone, clasps the neck of the other complete and utter buffoon (if only she could say that without the rueful chest clenching), tall and tawny and infuriatingly enamoured with the boy in front of him. she understands the bitterness all too well. different reasons, she presumes. but then she thinks of eliott, crumpled in bed, the sky jaded and eyes hooded with exhaust, his nostrils flared as he mutters about _him,_ about _lucas,_ touching some girl. so perhaps not so different reasons after all. she almost snorts at the fact that lucas lallemant, in all his boyish glory that she will never understand, has possibly broken two girls' hearts in the process of mending his own. she tries to remind herself that it isn't all his fault. watching them, all stupidly crooked grins and grabby hands, she sees that in all their past years, eliott never gave himself away to her like he has to lucas.

she sips from her champagne flute, swallows envy. it tastes like heart rot and cheap merlot. no, she decides. she will not get into this today.

fingers flexing against the length of her glass, she huffs through her nose and charges onwards. summoning anything in her body that feels like courage. as she makes her way towards her, chloé's deflating face finally turns away from the pair of idiots, swigs the remnants of wine into her mouth.

lucille briefly wonders if this is a bad idea. before she can think about turning around, irises of ebony liquid blink up to meet her own.

"hi." she says, fast. watching the crinkle unfold between chloé's eyebrows.

chloé tilts her head, slightly, confused smile lilting her lips, "hi. lucille, is it?"

she bobs her head once, "that would be me."

"i'm chloé."

"i remember." she lets her smile be playful. cheeky. like she wants chloé to question the meaning behind it while laying awake as twilight melts into dawn.

chloé smiles, closed-mouthed, it glimmers in her eyes, and lucille fancies she sees a blush there, "how kind of you." the girl in front of her brushes her bangs a bit, combing elegant fingers down through the rest of her hair, "enjoying the party?"

lucille glances around, like she's considering it, willing her eyes not to catch on the particular couple, "you could say that." she looks to chloé, swirling the sparkles of her glass gently, "and you? are you enjoying yourself?"

chloé swipes her tongue over her lip, languid pink over matted red. apparently she's weaker than lucille—her gaze glues to the two boys. lucille maps the upward curl of her eyelashes. she looks back over, clearing her throat a little, "yeah. yeah, you could say that."

there's no getting around it. she won't bother to pretend that they aren't a factor here. "do you know them?" lucille dips her head in their direction, "eliott and lucas?"

chloé's eyes flash dimly, something resentful. lucille knows all too well. "not really, no."

she arches an eyebrow, stares expectantly.

chloé huffs a dry laugh, "okay, well, eliott i don't really know."

"and lucas?"

she looks uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed but more so just mad, "we were together. actually, i guess you can't really call it together. we hooked up— once. and then i fell for him while he pretended to like me, when he was really just using me to cover up the fact that he was gay."

 _now this makes a lot of sense._ lucille purses her lips, hums, "dick move. men, i tell ya."

chloé smiles, lips hooking over her canines, "trash. all of them." the corners of her mouth pull downwards once more though, and lucille wants to chant no no no and make her smile sweet like berries again. "i try not to get worked up about it. yeah, he was an asshole but he was also scared and i.... i don't know, it's been almost a year, for fucks sake. but i see them and i just..."

"get mad at how happy they are."

chloé melts with relief and a sad openness, "it sounds so.. childish. and i don't know how to stop feeling that way."

lucille lets herself look at her. fills her eyes with sympathy and colours that scream _i know how you feel_. she figures they look startlingly similar right now. chloé looks back.

"do you know them?"

that question feels like vinegar down the back of her throat. so much for not getting into this today. lucille sighs out her nose, "yeah, i guess i do."

chloé waits for more, arcs of her eyes questioning and forehead wrinkled. and who is lucille to deny her of more when she looks at her with such plum sauce— soothing the burn of vinegar?

"eliott and i were together. together-together. five years." she hears chloé suck in a breath, "everything down the drain when he met lucas, though."

"i'm sorry." chloé offers, like there's nothing else to offer.

lucille shrugs, "don't be. relationships end." _if only i could tell you. darling, there's so much more to it._

chloé glances over to the couple in discussion, eyes a bit darker, tone a bit more muttered, dense with irony, " _they_ probably won't ever end."

lucille has to snort at that. "just to spite us, perhaps."

chloé meets her eyes, dimpling, "it's a cruel world."

_that it is, dear. but maybe, just maybe, you could make it a little less cruel._

-

_how about another drink?_

chloé smiles, playful, livelier, _trying to get me drunk, are you?_

_oh, you've figured me out._

-

now, when lucille suggested grabbing another drink, she really did just mean another. maybe two. chloé, ever the overachiever, had about four more glasses. and that lead them straight up to two certain boys with too much hair and too little brain.

currently, chloé was railing, gushing, borderline yelling at lucas. lucille was letting it happen. because why not? he should apologize, shouldn't he?

"you were scared— i get that! and you felt trapped and isolated, but it hurt, lucas! why did– why did you treat me like that?"

lucas opened and closed his mouth a few times, and lucille's useless slightly tipsy brain connects the movement to one of a fish.

before he can speak though, chloé goes in for another hit, eyes thrashing and violent, "no– shut up! shut... shut up, don't say anything. you'll just say something dumb. like you–" she hiccups, "like you always do."

at that last comment, the sharp of eliott's jaw hardens. he steps in front of lucas. "i think that's enough, chloé."

chloé rears back, "w– what? why do you get a say in this, _eliott_?"

with a brief douce of fear— runs down her back like ice water— lucille realizes that this could get bad. really fast. she also realizes that she knows the very mad, very protective look on eliott's face, amplified by the alcohol he's probably consumed. 

she gently clasps five fingers around chloé's wrist, feels the raging pulse. "c'mon. let's go sit somewhere else. get you some water." she tugs lightly, beckoning the girl away.

chloé turns to her, face disgruntled with anger, lips twisted. she looks back at lucas— who is still being blocked by eliott's smouldering glare—, but the boy's face isn't frightened or fragile looking. it's hardened, not with reciprocated anger, but with remorse. regret. a certain determination.

as chloé gives a huff and begins to follow lucille away, lucas shoulders past his boyfriend. "chloé! chloé— wait."

lucille's grip on her wrist tightens. chloé shudders out a breath and whips around, hair splaying darkly around her. she faces lucas.

he inhales deeply, licks over his lips, "you're right. i say a lot of dumb things, i think everyone knows that by now," he starts, his eyes— blue like deep water in hard sunlight— boring into chloé's, "you're also right about the fact that i was afraid. and that's no excuse, but chloé, i was fucking terrified. i had no idea on how to be myself. i thought that maybe, if i hung out with you enough, that you would... change me."

chloé stared on, arms by her side. lucille felt the clench in her muscles. she took a chance and glanced at eliott. he's staring at the back of lucas' furry head with so much care that it leaks from his pores. she almost gags.

"i know that i used you in ways that aren't okay— that will never be okay. and i will never stop being sorry. okay, chloé? _never_. and you never have to forgive me. but," he steps closer and lucille's gotta admit, he's got some balls. "you didn't deserve that. you deserve a lot more than that. and if i made you feel like you didn't, then i want you to know that that's not true. at all."

they all wait with bated breath. being dramatic by nature and having alcohol coursing through her blood, chloé could quite literally do anything. she could react in a million different ways. a small, mean, evil part of lucille selfishly hopes that she sends her knuckles into lucas' face, bruising his perfect fucking skin. but then all she can think of is eliott tenderly kissing the blooming purples. she stomps that part of her away.

chloé doesn't collide her fist with his head. in fact, she barely does anything. after a good amount of seconds, lucille wonders if she even recognizes that he was speaking to her. until–

"okay."

lucas raises his eyebrows, stutters a bit, "okay?"

chloé sighs deeply, probably louder than sober her would, "okay. i'm not sure if i can forgive you, but i understand what you did. i don't know what i would've done— if i was in your... you know.." she gestures her hand around vaguely, "situation."

lucas does the fish thing again. "i— okay. thank you, chloé."

eliott steps up to stand beside him, "i know i don't _have a say in this_ ," he starts, quoting chloé's earlier words, in a manner that's a bit too petty to be all sincere, "but i want to apologize too. for any— for all the troubles that i might've caused."

she doesn't know why she does it, really, but lucille drags her eyes across his hand squeezing the junction where lucas' shoulder meets neck, thumb stroking over the mole there. she refuses to cry over him— over them again.

"oh... uh, okay. it's okay." chloé says curtly, putting on a closed lip smile.

lucas smiles back– quietly, gratefully. eliott does too, eying lucas from the corner of his eye. and lucille stands slightly behind chloé, hand flexing stupidly around the girl's wrist. she let's go.

lucille clears her throat, "well, it was... nice seeing you both."

two blue pairs of eyes flick past chloé to land on her. eliott looks strained. she doesn't know if that pleases or dissatisfies her.

the boys stare moronically for a beat too long, before lucas subtly elbows eliott in the ribs. he jerks to life, throws a quick glance at lucas before meeting lucille's eyes. "yeah, you too, lucille."

plastering tape and glue over the mid-healed ravines through her heart, lucille nods slightly, doesn't smile. she looks to her dark haired– bit too drunk– companion, "chloé? you ready to go?"

"where are we going?"

lucille shrugs softly, "anywhere you want."

chloé bites the inside of her cheek, jabs a thumb in the boys' direction, "let's just get away from them. i can smell their adoration."

lucille breathes a laugh out her nose, not missing the way eliott and lucas' brows shoot to their hairlines when chloé wraps her dainty fingers around lucille's, clutching her hand.

"to the drinks!"

lucille's lips quirk upwards, "anywhere _but_ there." 

she clutches back.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for readin :*  
> ik there's some mistakes in there but oh well what can ya do 
> 
> let me know if you have any suggestions for me to try and (butcher) write!


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